


Dreamfasting

by jenni3penny



Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 14:22:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19975525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenni3penny/pseuds/jenni3penny
Summary: Requested anonymously on Tumblr... Jack has some interesting dreams about Gibbs and he calls her out on acting funny afterwards.





	Dreamfasting

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry that it isn't more, Anon!

She moaned herself awake, hearing it echo through the stillness of her Sunday morning bedroom. It was the only noise in the hushed apartment, the sound clearly aching and cracking at her consciousness like a whip. She was thankful she'd dropped the blinds and the curtains, leaving her curled up in half darkness even though it was nearly nine in the morning.

It was the second day in a row that she'd woken herself from dreaming of him, moaning and whimpering off the edge of whatever he had been doing in her dream.

It was the second day she'd woken up with the smell of him almost close enough, the sensual heat of him an ephemeral non-memory that teased at her senses and curled her in on herself.

Saturday had been his mouth between her legs, tongue and teeth teasing her clit, his long fingers full inside her. She'd forced herself straight out of bed after that dream, not allowing herself the indulgence of re-hashing it in her head.

(Except that was _all_ she had done, even while on a long morning run and into a cold shower. Even while cranking the water back warmer and getting herself off in the shower, moaning onto the decorative tile because she couldn't stop replaying the fantasy.

And later in the day when she'd gotten called into work it was all she could think about as he tried to have a conversation and she just stared mutely at his hands, then his mouth, then " _I'm sorry could you repeat the question?"_

_"You all right, Jack?"_

_"I'm fine. Just... distracted._ ")

Sunday had turned out differently, her hands slipping into her panties before she was even entirely awake enough to realize what she was doing.

She moaned again, still half asleep enough to feel the dream weight of him pressing down on her stomach while he worked his cock into her slowly. She sleepily jammed two fingers inside herself and used her right hand to work her slick clit, both hands crowding her underwear as she rolled onto her front and lifted her hips, knees digging into her bed.

She sighed into the half darkness, missing the smell of him that hadn't yet found her bedclothes, aching for the way his proximity always slid heat along her skin and perked her jaw up. Just sensing him close always seemed to make her breathe deeply, shoulders back, inhaling the familiar smell of his aftershave and soap and, hell, she could pick out his laundry soap if necessary.

He was the only man she'd met in ages of ever that could make her feel powerful just because he looked at her as though she already was…

God… she just wanted the strong assurance of him, the solid nearness. She wanted him pressed in close, inside her, beside her, wherever.

She wanted him to make her come, make her laugh, kiss her as she moaned and stretched against the bedsheets she had bought simply because they matched the bright of his eyes.

How unfortunate that it likely wouldn't ever happen…

***

"You're probably out already. Just… Palmer's got that charity thing at Latham Park and - "

"Hey, sorry," she interrupted after snatching the phone up, cutting into the message he was leaving her, "I was switching laundry."

He'd sounded a little lost in the message. A little out of sorts and floundering when it came to what to say. Which was actually boyishly cuter than he probably would have liked.

"Interested?"

"In Jimmy's charity?" she asked blithely, wiping down the flush on her throat that had suddenly seemed to flare up at the sound of his voice.

"In going to the park, Sloane." He still sounded patient with her, despite the explanation.

"Oh, _with you_?"

His surprised pause of silence had her wincing hard as she realized what she had said. Which was, of course, not _at all_ what she had meant.

"If you're not interested - "

"No, I'll go. Of course." _Moron_. Sometimes she was an absolute moron when it came to him. "Give me an hour?"

"I'll bring coffee."

***

He wasn't even sure why he had invited her. Except for the fact that he knew exactly why he'd invited her.

It likely had something to do with the way he'd dreamed of her… _Again_.

And each dream had grown more and more believable, more entrancing. The scent of her hair kept getting stronger, the velvet heat of her skin more real to his fingertips, his mouth.

He kept groaning himself awake to the sound of her whispering encouragements in his ear, lips along his earlobe. It was always, every time, whenever she spoke. Always the moan of his name on her lips, her whimper or sigh…

It had been a long while since he'd wanted a woman so much, to dream of her so vividly, over and over.

But then, every day still had him waking alone.

***

He brushed his knuckles against hers on accident (theoretically) and she nearly jumped out of her skin. And, being an investigator, he decided he'd better test a theory. So, he purposely brushed his knuckles against her bare upper arm and pressed into the back of her at once.

She damn neared squeaked surprise as her head whipped around on him. "What?"

He gave her credit for not stepping forward and away, though. She purposely and steadily held her ground, head turned attractively toward her own shoulder and his leaning. That was Jack to him - always holding ground, never backing down. Resilient and reliable.

"What's the problem, Jack?" he whispered with concern, his voice hushing carefully between them. "You all right?"

"I'm _fine_." And he almost immediately believed her, if only because her whole body relaxed back into his front. Well, maybe she was physically fine. Emotionally? That was a different story altogether.

He very suddenly questioned the choice to tease her the way he had, too, especially considering what happened to the whole of him when her cute little ass brushed right back against his crotch. Especially when they were in a public park and surrounded by a charity event that involved way more children than he had expected.

"You're twitchy as hell. _Again_ ," he accused, as though he wasn't also flinching at the feel of her pressed back into him and suddenly he realized that his dreams had been terribly wrong. She was so much warmer than he had imagined, even with the cool breeze on them. "Did I - "

"Jesus, it isn't you." Her hand rose to shove her hair from her face and he had to stop himself from helping, his fist clamped closed against the urge to take over and brush her hair aside. He was far too close to being able to press a string of kisses behind her ear and down. "I had this dream yesterday and it just… It has me on edge."

He felt concern flex his shoulders up, felt it tighten on him as he studied her profile in Sunday's afternoon light. "Nightmare?"

"Oh, no. It was good. _Very_ good." He'd had some equally good dreams too but he had no way of knowing if his _good_ was synonymous with hers. Though, from how sultry and breathy her voice had gone… "So was this morning's for that matter."

And this morning too... _Huh_.

Well, at least he wasn't the only one dealing with it each morning, waking into a vacancy that stung and ached while still so charged, so flushed and…

_To hell with it._ He was gonna ask, just to be sure. He was tired of cowardice, tired of back-stepping and hedging his bets. He was tired of wondering. "Was I in them?"

" _Oh_ , yeah."

He couldn't help smiling in response to her energetic sincerity, his whole face taken by a surprise grin that he aimed downward toward her shoulder. "Pretty sure I had a similar dream this morning."

It cost nothing to be honest with her about it when she had already been so open with him but he had still surprised himself by saying it so easily.

" _Really_?" she asked, so close to his ear that his spine reflexively straightened. His hands itched to grab her back and tug her closer into him, wrap her up and down his mouth along the side of her neck.

"Not my first."

A small hemmed sound came up her throat, questioning but somehow also a little concerned. "How'd it go?"

"It was… beyond good."

"Same." Her lungs deflated hard and the sigh sent her back leaning into him again and he used that shift to reach for her hips.

The fact that her hands came up and away, giving him leeway instead of taking a swing at him, well… He was hoping that was permission to tug her closer. She didn't seem to mind, leaning into the way he turned her around, both hands settling against his chest with cautious surprise. Gibbs curved his hands to her hips, slid the right one up to her waist and watched her jaw go slack in response her eyes going thinner and calmer.

She squinted up at him after the shift, taking in his silence before nodding, "We _are_ talking about the same thing, right?"

"Absolute sexiest dreams I've had in years," he admitted quietly.

Finding her eyes searching his, seeing how hopeful she'd looked as she had asked… it had been easier to admit than he'd expected.

Maybe because touching her was a balm, and a safety. Maybe because he needed something tactile to go with every non-memory his heartsick brain had been feeding him while he'd slept. Maybe he just needed to see her eyes and smell her perfume to be able to tell her the absolute truth.

"Okay, good." She laughed and even despite its nervousness, he adored the innocent sound of it, the way it brushed his skin like the heat off metal that's sat too long in the sun. That laugh had become both a danger and a reward for him, something he sought out but also something that could wreck him up. It had him shutting his eyes and exhaling slowly, memorizing what it felt like to hear that laugh while both her hands were on him. "I mean sex dreams between friends are normal, right?"

He didn't look at her, but he didn't figure he needed to, really. He felt the half frown that stalled on his face just as well as he felt her closely watching him. "Usually only when I wanna have sex with my friend."

"And you don't?"

"I didn't say that," Gibbs answered sharply, correcting her as he quickly lifted his head. He just barely caught sight of the lift in her eyebrow, the quixotic look she gave him in answer. She didn't really smile but, God, with those beautifully expressive brown eyes she didn't really need to - it was all there already.

She knew everything without him having to tell her and, hell, that was how he knew it could really work. He didn't have to explain it, not to her. She understood so much more of him than he had ever expected she would.

She already knew…

Jack nodded, shoulders visibly relaxing as she tugged against his shirt. Her eyes glossed and her lips curved and he watched happiness soften her face. "So then you _do_?"

"This is a trick question."

"You're goddamn right it is," she whispered, the caramel color of her eyes seeming even more sweet and sensual than usual, "answer it wisely, Gunny."

"Y'know, maybe the only way to stop dreaming is to stay up all night. Together."

"Smooth," she murmured, as though impressed. "You still didn't answer."

He answered with his hands in her hair and his mouth on hers and every dream he'd had leading up to a Sunday afternoon kiss in the park was _nothing_ near the cotton candy and coffee taste of her tongue against his.


End file.
